XXXIII
Few individuals in the world could claim the title of genius, but the President of the Hunter Association, Bob, was undeniably one of them. My time with him felt like a rare and precious learning opportunity—one I couldn't afford to waste.
Bob tilted his head, his curious gaze piercing through me. "How many special abilities are there? What do you think?"
It was clear he was testing my knowledge and understanding of aura.
"That's an impossible question," I replied, choosing my words carefully.
Bob let out a thoughtful hum, his expression unchanging. "Hoh~"
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before elaborating. "If there is an answer, it would be 'many' or even 'a whole,' because special abilities themselves are just expressions of thought. They aren't like aura, which can be perceived almost like an organ. If anything, special abilities are more like philosophies, ways of life, or ideals."
His eyes lit up with approval. "Marvelous answer. Then you probably know this: Think Not, Think Now, and Think New—the trinity thoughts. Do you know they also correspond to the three states of matter: gas, solid, and liquid? So, where am I going with this?"
I sighed, piecing his cryptic words together. "You're saying you can't teach me your technique… that we're carved from a different rock."
Bob nodded knowingly. "Exactly. I could tell—you're more of a Think Now person."
What a roundabout way to reject me. What an ass.
My eyes flicked to his cape, watching how it moved with an almost liquid grace. It wasn't just fabric—it was aura, manifesting in a way that seemed to flow and adapt. Likely, it was tied to the Think New philosophy: fluid, flexible, and ever-changing.
"Still," I pressed, "teach me the principles behind it. I know how much you value the dissemination of aura techniques… but you're also cautious about them falling into the wrong hands. That's why you tolerate the existence of the Hunting Dogs."
Or in a way, co-exist with the moral dillema they represented.
Leaning forward slightly, I met his gaze. "How about this? Let's make it a fair deal. Teach me the principles behind your cape, and I'll teach you the principles behind my Soul Link."
I felt confident my Soul Link was valuable enough to pique his interest. He'd seen me use it during the exam, after all.
Bob's grin widened, and he gave a decisive nod. "Fine. This cape… I call it Red Fury, and it's the evolution of my special ability."
We spent the rest of the day deep in discussion. Despite his Fighter inclination, Bob was anything but a brute. His insights challenged my perspective, forcing me to rethink the way I approached aura and its applications. By the time our conversation ended, I walked away with newfound clarity and ideas on how to develop my abilities further.
I had no intention of abandoning the 'puppetry' attribute I'd been experimenting with, but now, with Bob's teachings, I felt ready to create something entirely new.
Back in the room the Hunter Association had reserved for contenders like me, I found my luggage waiting—proof of how efficient they were. I pulled out a small notepad and began scribbling down ideas.
All aura abilities and techniques, I realized, revolved around a central ideal unique to the practitioner. It was as if every ability followed a thematic rule, consciously or subconsciously. For example, my son Leon's aura theme seemed to revolve around fire. But it would be inaccurate to say he simply had fire powers—he'd once solidified flames to play catch with me.
I brainstormed possible titles for the research I'd just begun. Titles had always been a hassle for me, but after some trial and error, I settled on something that felt fitting: A Study on Thematic Powers Manifested by Aura.
The more I thought about it, the more I decided to use the term 'Gift' to refer to these thematic powers in a specific context. I hoped to develop a technique that could help aura practitioners identify their Gifts. Perhaps through it, I could uncover the theme behind my own aura and finally understand its true potential.
The possibilities excited me. This was the start of something big.
By the third day, Selena finally completed her exam. I watched from the beach as she trudged up to the resort, muttering a string of curses under her breath.
"Motherfucker! Fucking mother!"
I waved her over, smirking. "What took you so long?"
Before she could respond, Geoffrey the Beggar and Shen the Spear God were teleported onto the beach beside us. Shen wasted no time kicking Geoffrey, sending the older man tumbling into the sea.
Selena threw her hands up in exasperation. "Because I'm babysitting these two, that's why!"
I shrugged. "Must be tough…"
"Don't get me started!" she snapped, rolling her eyes before brushing past me and heading toward the resort.
That left me with Shen, who approached with narrowed eyes, his expression serious.
"What is your relationship with Selena?" he asked, his tone sharp.
I frowned, irritation bubbling up. I wasn't in the mood for a confrontation, and this wasn't worth my time. Not that I would lose. "What does it matter to you?"
Shen's face softened slightly, though his resolve remained. "Because I've fallen head over heels for her…"
I blinked. Okay?
He continued, completely earnest, "She isn't taken, right?"
I sighed. "Sure, she isn't taken… but are you sure? She's about five years older than you."
Shen shrugged, undeterred. "Age means nothing when it comes to romance. I like her because I like her. Age is just a number. Some people have partners ten, even fifty years older."
I couldn't help but chuckle. "You're funny."
With that, Shen walked off, his determination almost admirable. Wait… didn't he end up becoming a womanizer in the future? Hmmm…
Before I could dwell on that thought, a drenched and disgruntled Geoffrey stumbled toward me, his expression twisted into a mischievous grin.
"Was your wife a good lay?" he asked, his voice dripping with provocation.
My expression hardened. "No one talks about my wife that way."
This guy…
Geoffrey stretched casually, clearly enjoying himself. "She must be a good lay. You know, the stereotypes with blondes. Is she the quiet type or the loud type? You know, when you're bangin' and all… Ever tried the backdoor yet?"
I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my calm.
Why was I even letting him get under my skin?
Geoffrey's grin widened. "So quiet. She mustn't be much good in bed… you can fork her over to me if you two don't match up or anything."
This man needed to be put in his place. But violence would be my last resort.
I gave him my most wicked smile, meeting his gaze. "Geoffrey Corinth. Fifty-five years old. Divorced twice. Has one daughter who doesn't love him back. Drowning in debt with not a penny to his name. Thinks he's still a hotshot, but really just a washed-up hunter whose body is breaking down. Tell me, Mr. Corinth—was your daughter, now a prostitute, a good lay?"
Then I laughed right in his face.
Geoffrey's eyes went bloodshot as he glared at me. "If you're implying I've slept with my daughter, then screw you—"
Of course, he hadn't. I knew that much, but there was no way I'd let him off easy after enduring his disgusting comments about my wife.
Geoffrey clenched his fists, aura beginning to gather around them.
I met his gaze, calm but firm. "If you're going to throw the first punch, then do it."
"Trust me, you won't be able to throw the second punch."
I knew Geoffrey was a Dealer-type, and for his ability to work, I had to be the one to attack first. This entire provocation was likely because of my bounty. The Elsewhere Cult had probably put a price on my head after the stunt I pulled against them.
Shen had a bounty, too, which explained why Geoffrey had been pushing his buttons earlier… just like he was doing with me now.
I lightly patted his left cheek with my right hand, almost playfully, slapping in small intervals.
Geoffrey stood there, enduring the humiliating gesture.
"Geoffrey, why aren't you doing anything? I attacked you now, didn't I? Ah, it's because, for your ability to work, the 'attack' has to be strong enough to actually hurt, right? Must be tough, being a Dealer-type."
He swatted my hand away, frustration etched across his face.
But it was already too late—I'd left a Soul Link on him. If he tried anything funny, I'd be ready to destroy him from the inside out.
Geoffrey smirked, giving me a casual shrug. "You should watch your back, Reynard. And maybe… consider hiring me to do it for you."
The fact he knew my name meant his targeting me wasn't spontaneous.
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Oh, really? After that stunt you just pulled?"
His smirk faded slightly, and he shifted, almost looking sincere. "Hey, I've got my ways. You'd be surprised how useful I can be."
I glared at him, not buying it for a second. "Yeah? Well, I'd sooner trust a snake."
"Suit yourself," he muttered, still watching me with calculating eyes.
I stepped closer, letting my presence loom. "Now do us both a favor and get lost."
Geoffrey backed off with a shrug, though I couldn't ignore the sharp instincts in his gaze. If he attacked me, I'd have justification to unleash the full force of my Soul Link. The aura sabotage aspect of it could be incredibly nasty if I willed it… and I'd make it hurt. Real bad.
The days passed with a strange rhythm—equal parts chaos and calm. When I wasn't hanging out with Selena, I was holed up in my room, experimenting with my Puppetry attribute. The president's Red Fury (the cape) technique had been a revelation, inspiring me to think outside the box with aura manipulation.
My Maker affinity was terrible, just as bad as my other affinities—except Dealer, of course. Seeker was my second-best affinity, followed by Reader, but none of them were stellar. Still, I refused to give up.
The knowledge of Gifts—specialized applications of aura—wouldn't be widely known for another decade, thanks to the work of some ambitious researchers. But I had no intention of waiting for them to finish their studies. My understanding of aura was more than enough to push forward.
Eventually, after countless hours of trial and error, I made a breakthrough. Ephemeral chains of aura slithered around my wrist, glowing faintly in the dim light of my room. They weren't formed using the Maker state but instead came together through a series of Soul Links. I'd originally aimed for something thinner, like strings, but this was a significant step forward.
"I'll call this Soul Chains," I muttered, examining the construct. The chains pulsed faintly, as if alive. "As for its abilities… I'm still not sure."
Restraint seemed to be its primary function, though it wasn't versatile enough to serve as a weapon—yet. Still, this was the most progress I'd made in months since my aura awakening, and it was enough to reignite my determination.
By the ninth day, the president finally announced the end of the fifth exam. Three tests remained: Reader, Fighter, and Caster. At eight in the morning, we gathered by the beach, the rising sun painting the horizon in hues of orange and gold.
Bob clapped his hands, his grin as wide as ever. "Congratulations on passing the fifth stage! Now, today's a no-exam day, so feel free to party!"
The hunters erupted into cheers, many of them fist-pumping the air in celebration.
The president, topless but still wearing that absurd red cape, took a running start and dive-bombed into the ocean with a splash. If nothing else, the man knew how to make an exit.
The beach quickly transformed into a full-blown party. Selena joined a game of beach volleyball, her laughter carrying over the sound of the waves. I found a shady spot under an umbrella, sipping coconut water through a straw.
Black lounged beside me, sunglasses perched on his nose as he soaked up the sun.
"Not exactly what I expected for a day off," I murmured.
He smirked. "We take our victories where we can."
Shen, ever persistent, hovered around Selena like a lovesick puppy. She wasn't having any of it, dodging his attempts at conversation by focusing on her game.
Nearby, Geoffrey was at it again, pestering one of the female staff members. Before I could intervene, Shen stomped over and kicked Geoffrey away. And then Shen… proceeded to flirt with the female staff. I imagined he had grown tired of Selena rather quickly.
Black chuckled beside me. "Got any guesses about the next test?"
I shook my head, my gaze fixed on the scene in front of me. "No clue. But if the president says it's a no-exam day, I'm inclined to believe him."
I sighed, irritated by the brute's behavior. Just another day dealing with idiots.
I crafted a Soul Chain, letting it slither just beneath the sand. It crept toward Shen, invisible to the naked eye. Before he realized what was happening, the chain coiled around him, freezing him in place.
The female staff member took the opportunity to escape, leaving the brute standing there, confused and powerless.
The current iteration of my Soul Chain was purely for restraint. It couldn't yet act as a conduit or subtiture for my Soul Link. If it could, I'd have drained his aura and subjected him to a brutal backlash.
Instead, I embedded the chain in his aura field, restricting his aura usage. For the rest of the day, he'd feel like he was constipated—in an aura sense, at least. The chain was easy to dispel with enough aura bombardment, but its faint signature made it difficult to detect.
Leaning back, I took another sip of my coconut water, satisfied.
"Lesson learned," I muttered under my breath. "Don't be a hero if you're planning to be the jerk anyway."
I scanned the beach for Geoffrey, but the beggar had vanished. Typical.
The day wore on, a mix of relaxation and minor annoyances. For now, I let myself enjoy the reprieve. The next challenge was just around the corner, and I intended to be ready.
~033